No One Wants to be Let Down
by just another sundae
Summary: Mornings, who likes them? They just lead to headaches, but days can be made better. They truly can.
1. Mornings

Golden sunshine poured in through the window. A lazy boy took no notice, pulling his blankets back over his head, avoiding the sunlight attempting to fall back into the endless world of winding and whirling dreams. Consciousness brought a flood of thoughts that he wanted to avoid, a spiral of ideas and words that never ceased spinning. Even in paradise, he was halted by his spinning mind.

Alas, his attempt at falling back into the world of dreams was stopped by his alarm clock, an echo of the world around him that required so much of his attention. This world was not so dreadful; there were good things that grew from it, such as a possible boyfriend, a warm bed, and music. However, there were also negative things that threatened his every day existence. Hate manifested itself in human nature, how this happened Blaine was unsure of. He was also wary of that Mathematics exam and the grade he had gotten on it. Yet, his deepest fear was a small voice in the back of his mind, the voice of doubt, that the boy he had recently met would not return his feelings.

Yet, who was Blaine to rush head over heels into a relationship? Was that not a recipe for disaster? He had this horrible feeling, one that consumed every fiber of his being, that in the end he and Kurt would not work out. Blaine would review his own internal flaws under a microscope in the tiniest corners of his head. He had come to irrational conclusions, such as that he lacked romantic tendencies and possessed too cliché of a personality to ever take part in a successful relationship. He concluded that Kurt was everything he was not, a brave soul rather than a coward who fled at the slightest hint of mockery. They shared taste in Vogue Magazine Covers and both had interests in similar topics, yet Blaine could not pull himself from thinking that there was a canyon gap between himself and Kurt.

These thoughts were the exact reason that Blaine wanted to hide under his covers and stay in his dream world, where he was free to fall in love without struggle and wear two different shoes without being ridiculed. He could eat Red Vines forever without consequence while singing and strumming in a dimly lit café, directing his music towards a certain _someone_.

Oh the real world, how boring it was.

His life was not dull, but it was not eventful. The line was faintly drawn on the plane where boredom and average coincided. Dalton made things easy, blocked out prejudice, and allowed Blaine to focus on what he was truly passionate about. Well, he could focus on everything he loved excluding a certain someone who seemed to truly need him as a crutch, perhaps more but perhaps not.

Well a guy could hope, right?

_Right. _A guy could also hope to get a passing mark on a calculus exam he didn't study for. He could hope, but would that mean anything except that Blaine was somewhat of an idealist? Nope. His hopes were about as powerful as a level one Jigglypuff against a level 100 Mew.

He rolled over and reached for his phone on the nightstand. He touched the smooth wood and his fingers bumped into the alarm clock, which was now playing a quiet Jack Johnson song and read 12:43 PM. He sighed, Blaine couldn't remember a time where he didn't think Jack Johnson was fantastic. He backed his music with emotion and a fantastic acoustic strumming. Moving from the alarm clock, Blaine's fingers quietly walked across the table's edges looking for a phone. With a lazy opening of eyelids, Blaine propped himself up upon taking notice that his phone was no longer on the nightstand. He slowly moved his arms around the sheets and various blankets of his bed until he came across the device he was looking for. It had been right under his side pillow the entire time. Making a mental note to not sleep with his phone on his pillow again, Blaine quickly woke up his electronic to find a new text message.

What a pleasant way to wake up, with a whirling head and an awaiting text.

Clumsy fingers pushed a series of buttons, allowing Blaine to view his message. His heart fluttered for a mere second at the sight of the sender's name: Kurt. He read it allowed in a hushed whisper before putting his hand over his face and letting out a sigh of relief.

The text gave his buzzing hummingbird of a head a chance to rest before taking off into flight once again. It had simply stated that Kurt wanted to see Blaine and perhaps go and get a coffee to escape the sudden onset of the bitter Ohio cold. With a slight smile, Blaine pulled himself away from the warmth of his bed; quickly wishing he could stay in the cocoon of blankets. Was the heater broken? He doubted it. He had just left his fan on during the night.

Blaine stumbled over his bedroom floor looking for something, anything, to wear. He didn't want to look like a slob, so the jeans he wore yesterday were out of the question, however, he didn't want to look like he was trying far to hard. That would send bad messages to the subject of his admiration, a subject whose feelings were unknown. Blaine staggered to his closet, searching for clothing. After running his hands over many shirts, he chose a navy plaid crew neck sweater-a gift from his mother-and a pair of darkly washed jeans. He slipped on a pair of socks; he thought they were brown, and pulled on a pair of loafers. Simple yet somehow fashionable. Somehow. He grabbed a pea coat and walked down the stairs, for it was Thanksgiving Break and he refused to remain at school during break, as Dalton had no similarity to Hogwarts during the festive breaks of the year. Therefore, Dalton was an utter bore (one without much electricity) during the break and Blaine chose to go home.

As his foot hit the last step, Blaine removed his phone from his pocket and dialed his far away friend.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

The phone kept ringing until Blaine heard a click on the other line.

"Hello, this is Kurt Hummel." Even the countertenor's speaking voice made Blaine smile.

"Hey Kurt, it's me Blaine. Don't you check caller ID, dork? More importantly, do you want to go get something to drink?" Blaine's voice journeyed from friendly to playful and back to friendly.

Far away in Lima, Kurt's baby face lit up with a slight joy. Although Kurt was attending Dalton Academy, he spent his little free time divided equally amongst his family and the boy who he would follow into the dark without question. He shared Blaine's doubts about the foundation of a relationship, but in a lesser way. He still had a flutter of hope that his mentor, his guide, and his most relatable friend could one day become something more.

"Well, you see Blaine, I was deeply involved in the reading of Kristin Chenoweth's new autobiography." This had been a gift Carole had picked up for Kurt while a trip to Barnes and Noble to find a study guide for Finn. She knew of his infatuation with Wicked.

"Well, I see that this is far more important than little old me. My feelings are so hurt Kurt! You're going to have to make it up to me." Blaine smirked on his end of the line. Kurt suddenly felt his stomach turn into a butterfly garden. Blaine had to be flirting. Blaine just had to be flirting and Blaine was flirting, utilizing every suave bone in his body.

"Well, I guess you'll just have to meet me in an hour at the usual Starbucks. If you don't, well, then you'll owe me." Kurt let out a small giggle, one that was almost inaudible. Oh how Kurt hoped it was inaudible. By Blaine's return chuckle, Kurt realized the curly haired boy had heard it in full.

"See you then." With that, Blaine smoothed his curls into something stylish and hopped in his car and drove towards one fantastic afternoon with one fantastic friend.


	2. Cup of Joe

**So I woke up this morning and needless to say, I was pleasantly surprised. First fanfiction ever and I had three solid pages of Sorry for the shortness of this chapter. I'll make up for it later on, pinky promise.**

**Also, please excuse my horribly corny references to the actresses that portray Shelby and April Rhodes. Also, excuse my silly use of cliché words and romantic actions. If you could get a degree in awkward, I'd have a PhD. **

"Blaine, do you think we could measure a year in cups of coffee?" Kurt smiled inwardly, if his year was measured in cups of coffee, well the coffee in the beginning would have been instant and spoiled, but the present coffee would be the richest free trade organic in existence with a slight hint of vanilla and roasted coffee beans. In other words, perfection.

"Kurt, do you really think that we can apply song lyrics from RENT in everyday life?"

"Of course! I mean Idina Menzel was fabulous in the original production. Simply fabulous." Kurt smiled; Idina Menzel had a lovely voice and a charming demeanor.

"That she was," Blaine couldn't help but smile. The boy sitting across from him was absolutely charming. Blaine resisted every temptation to compare Idina Menzel to Rachel Berry, but he refrained as to not bring up unwanted feelings of regret in his friend. Instead, Blaine simply raised his coffee to his lips and gradually sipped it, only to realize it was much too hot.

Suddenly, the charismatic Blaine was making a sound in between that of a snort and a laugh followed by a drawn out sound that resembled the word hot and severable other unmentionables.

It was as if Kurt's laughter was queued.

Kurt's laugh was impossible for Blaine to describe. It was filled with a bubbly giggle not unlike those that fill up toy stores combined with the warm-hearted chuckle of a young intellectual. The laugh was even more than that. It filled the room with a warm light that seemed to infect everyone with a strain of a virus called happiness. When this wonderful sound was mixed with Kurt's facial expressions, Blaine was left in a state of awe. He was witnessing perfection right across from him, perfection in the form of Broadway musicals and expensive shoes.

For a second everything was quiet. It was the kind of quiet that filled the room with warmth, the type of quiet that was aided by hushed cackling of a fire and the small talk of the baristas. During said second, the two young men smiled at one another. No lights flickered, no electricity surged, and no spells were cast for the quiet filled them up like a warm bowl of soup accompanied by a hot piece of bread. Everything was lovely.

Then it ended, but the happiness was not lost. It was filtered into conversation, pulling both boys in deeper and deeper. Time flew out on fluttering wings and both men realized they had sat in the coffee shop for longer than expected. Four hours was a long time to sit and only so many drinks could be ordered without both young men feeling like they needed to work out to burn off Frappuccino calories.

"Well, Kurt, I've had such a great time." Blaine smiled, scooting in his chair and grabbing Kurt's coat. He had grabbed Kurt's coat. Sending a message, perhaps? Indeed.

"Thank you Blaine." Kurt grabbed his jacket only to be confronted with two alluring eyes, framed by runaway curls. He couldn't be the only one who felt such a feeling. His heart was being held on strings and his stomach had long ago become butterflies. Kurt Hummel had nothing to say. He wanted to never leave Blaine's gaze. Never. It appeared that Blaine felt the same way.

Blaine's mind was once again twisting and turning. He was confronted with so many thoughts and ideas on how to handle the situation. A kiss on the cheek? No, that would be too cliché, Kurt needed something better than that as a true first kiss. A hug? That could send messages of friendship or even something like brotherhood. Perhaps just a smile would suffice? Maybe, Blaine did not want to endanger his building relationship, whether it was being built as a bridge of friendship or a garden of romance. So Blaine let his mouth change into a brilliant smile.

Kurt melted. He could feel his heart melting into his stomach and his knees melting into his toes. He could also feel his face becoming pink, like a child's face after a day spent making snowballs and sledding. Somehow, even though Kurt felt like time itself had stopped, he managed to flash a smile back at Blaine, who in turn felt the same series of emotions as Kurt did.

"Well my friend, what do you say we end this day with a movie? We're closer to my house, so we can head that way. My parents have a party with some friends tonight and my little sister is at a friend's house. Just follow me."

Kurt simply nodded and the two walked to their separate cars and began their drive to Blaine's home.


	3. Of Car Rides and Movie Times

**Whoa! Late update much? Sorry guys! I've been busier than a bee in the springtime. This is very fluffy; it may fill you with sunshine and bubbles as a result of too many Sara Bareilles songs and many romantic comedies. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, sorry this isn't written in the holiday spirit! **

A bumpy and complicated car ride awaited the pair of friends. The road wasn't to blame, but rather Blaine's judgment of when to turn and what exits to take. Said judgment was faulty. Beyond faulty. He would take a left when the green arrow was about to flicker away and turn right on red without bothering to look at oncoming traffic. Impatient was an understatement. This left a confused Kurt, trying to keep up without getting crushed by various cars. He could have sworn that he had seen the same black Lexus three times and it had nearly rear-ended him during each encounter.

Kurt had narrowed the reason for Blaine's driving ability to two reasons: Blaine had either a faulty GPS or bought his way out of Driver's Ed.

Somehow, they both escaped traffic unscathed and their cars managed to fly out of traffic without a scratch. Now, Blaine didn't bother to say he had been given a few nasty hand signals on the way to his home. Why bring up what didn't matter? Everyone needed a little excitement, even balding men on their way to the mall for a Christmas shopping adventure. What balding man didn't want to be cut off in traffic by a glamorous young singer? Blaine couldn't help that his singing along to a mix tape of Disney songs had much more importance over safe driving habits.

Thankfully for Kurt, all the pair had to do was navigate their ways through the streets of Blaine's gated neighborhood, where the smallest house resembled a highly expanded enchanted cottage and the largest house was the size of a fairytale cottage's accompanying twelve-wing chateau. Compared to Lima's best neighborhood, where the homes were custom built from three thousand to six thousand square feet, Blaine's neighborhood was a Versailles compared to, well, a dingy apartment in Paris.

Thank the Flying Spaghetti Monster that Kurt was not in Blaine's car, because his eyes were the size of saucers and his caution level was immediately bumped to over 9000. He had a hunch that even a few roof tiles, all were slate or clay, cost more than a Marc Jacobs shoe. Needless to say, Blaine's parents had money.

Suddenly, Blaine's car diverted to the left and with a sigh Kurt took a sharp turn to follow him. They approached a house so beautiful, Kurt nearly gasped. Not only did it have a guesthouse, it had an entire guest cottage that seemed to be the size of Kurt's own home. The house itself was a sight to behold, a vast home in the Tuscany style. Even in the winter, the home seemed to exude sunshine and warmth. Blaine was one lucky fellow. Kurt sighed; Blaine was more of a dreamboat than a human being.

They both pulled up to the massive circular driveway and Blaine quickly ran to Kurt's door, a large grin on his face.

"Sorry about the ride man, Helga, my GPS broke and now I can't find my way anywhere without actually seeing where I'm supposed to turn."

"It's alright, next time just try and not get me killed. I seriously think that Black Lexus was ready to total my car." Kurt smiled and opened his door. The pair quickly walked out of the cold and into the warmth of the spacious home. The spacious home which was bursting with life, even without occupants. Classical music was drifting from his parents' room, a phone was ringing, a dog was barking, and a fountain was most definitely trickling; a fountain that was in the open courtyard of the home.

Blaine grabbed Kurt's hand (a common action) and dragged him to the kitchen. How couldn't Kurt blush? He felt like he was in a movie, a movie he never wanted to end. A movie he wished he could replay over and over again. Where was a TiVo when you needed one?

Blaine and Kurt ran to the pantry, a pantry the size of a room, and grabbed some snacks and drinks.

While Kurt was flustered, Blaine was worrying that his hand would soon be detaching itself to escape his sweaty palms. Thankfully, he was wearing gloves as to avoid a very awkward situation. He couldn't find words to say how nervous he was. He was in is home with the boy of his dreams and knew not how to work this situation to benefit both of them. Hell, he didn't have a clue to as if Kurt liked him or not. He couldn't fathom how Kurt could even possibly romantically consider him; Blaine even disliked himself at times, what with his nerdy hobbies and his bushy eyebrows.

He just wanted to know. He needed a plan to see if Kurt liked him or not. He needed a sign.

"How about that movie?" Blaine smiled.

They then fell down the rabbit hole into Wonderland. At least, that's what Kurt thought. They had actually walked up the stairs into a media room equipped with enough equipment and movie posters to create a small theatre. A popcorn machine in the left corner, a full bar lined the back of the room, and many seats filled their vision. There was even, yes, a large couch in the front that matched the many reclining seats in the room. Oh, how Kurt wanted to sit there and while Blaine unloaded the food and drinks on the bar, he meandered to the couch.

Blaine did not just double take; he looked more than four times to make sure his eyes weren't tricking him. Kurt was sitting on the couch. Not a chair, but the couch that was built for two. Maybe the tall guy just wanted to stretch out? Maybe he wanted to take a nap during the movie? Maybe he had suddenly come down with stomach cramps? Maybe he wanted a companion? No, that wasn't possible. Kurt didn't seem like a cuddler. Nope, no cuddling there on that couch. Never. Especially never cuddling with Blaine.

Oh, how wrong Blaine was.

Frankly, Kurt wanted nothing more than to grab Blaine by the waist and kiss him forever. He was pretty sure that would never happen. Darn those teenage hormones, rampaging through his body. Alas, Kurt could barely muster up the courage to chat with Blaine let alone flirt with him. How could he charm something so charismatic? It was impossible, unless, he wished upon every shooting star and birthday candle he could find.

Then suddenly, Blaine dimmed the lights as a movie flashed on screen. He hadn't even asked, an action that would usually anger Kurt, but instead made him smile and drift into such a _lovely _daydream. The previews ended and down plopped Blaine on the couch, not on the opposite end, but not quite touching Kurt. Instead, he placed the popcorn bowl in Kurt's lap and looked up through long lashes, with a slightly mixed smile and smirk.

Kurt's heart nearly fell out of his chest. His eyes dropped to the floor. He was sure his mouth was hanging on a final hinge. Love. Love. Love. In the eternal worlds of The Beatles, love was all he needed, love from a certain boy.

The movie flashed, the title screen was gone, and on flashed a movie familiar to Kurt do to Quinn's constant discussion over it: (_500) Days of Summer_. Was this a sign that Blaine was not really in love with him? Kurt did not want to be a Tom. However, as the movie progressed and Kurt's eyes dampened following scene in which Summer reveals her engagement, Blaine managed to get Kurt's hand out of the popcorn bowl and into Blaine's own palm.

The boy was utter magic.

Following the end of the movie, Blaine whispered something inaudibly. Something only the smallest ears of a wood nymph could pick up.

"I'll be your Tom, if you'll be my Autumn."

Only the smallest ears. The ears of someone so in love, that they could hear the faintest breath of their admiration. Wood nymph ears.


End file.
